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realization moving in a wave from one face to the
other, and with it, an explosion of pity, fear and
disgust in their eyes.
It felt like all the blood in my body was rising
and gathering at my throat. Suddenly, I couldn't
swallow, but I couldn't breathe either. I guess I was
getting whiter and whiter. Doctor Marlowe's face
erupted into a look of serious concern. She rose from
her chair.
"Let's give Cathy a short break," she suggested.
"Come on, honey. I want you to splash your face in
cold water and relax for a few moments."
I felt her helping me to my feet, but I wasn't
sure they wouldn't just turn to air and let the rest of
me fold to the floor. Like a sleepwalker, I followed
Doctor Marlowe out to the bathroom and did what she
prescribed. The cold water revived me. The blood
retreated and I could swallow again and breathe. "Feeling better?" she asked.
I nodded.
"You don't have to continue, Cathy. Maybe I'm
rushing you," she suggested.
I considered it. How comfortable and easy it
would be for me to agree and go home, return to my
room and go to bed. I could pull the blanket up to my
chin and shut my eyes and squeeze my legs against
my stomach and wait for sleep to open a door into a
happy place, someplace where I could just drift, float
on warm clouds and forget and forget and forget. But another part of me wanted to come out, to
leave the room and be in the real world again. How
would I ever get back to the real world if I just ran
